


Detours To The Navigation Bay

by Em_Jacques



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Begging, Dirty Talk, F/M, Master/Slave, Minor Bloodplay Mention, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Shameless Smut, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-11
Updated: 2016-03-11
Packaged: 2018-05-26 02:00:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6219220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Em_Jacques/pseuds/Em_Jacques
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>-Prequel to 'Unveiling'-<br/>Kylo Ren is taking the reader somewhere on SKB, but gets distracted along the way.  With all those nooks and crannies full of shadows it's simply too tempting to not take advantage; he pulls the reader into a supply closet, and reminds her that she's his everywhere on Base.  Unknown to one and perhaps simply forgotten by the other, cameras are always watching.  Ears are always listening.  And one ginger General bears witness to a situation he very much resents, for several reasons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Detours To The Navigation Bay

**Author's Note:**

> This is the prequel to Unveiling, or the final straw that makes Hux decide to go accost KR's hoochie. It's not terribly involved or themed, just some average bedtime story action to add to the depth and timeline of my little AU. As I wrote it however, I found myself loving the idea of a truly psychopathic Hux with a bad bad blood kink...  
> Also, I'm very sorry for the gap in posting times. Some things have changed in my life that are fairly heavy, as I've needed to sort them out rather abruptly. Regardless of all that, these stories are something I very much enjoy writing, and am making a point to continue with for structure in my own life as well as for your sake. I love reading the fabulous things you have to say about them!! Your encouragement has been the spark of giddiness that makes me squeal when I open this site.

You trail behind him, walking fast on bare feet to keep up with his purposed strides and feeling very exposed beneath your belted cloak. The white fabric was thickly woven, heavy to envelope your body completely. Despite that, your nakedness beneath felt apparent as Kylo Ren marched you down the unfamiliar hallway. Looking around while you trot you see steel walls. It all seems very utilitarian to you even with the intermittent First Order banners hanging vibrant and proud; garish red lipstick meant to add some allure to the Base’s plain face. How did anyone even find their way around here, you wonder? How did Ren know where he was going? Where were you going? You frown in confusion.

“I’m taking you to the kitchens,” his corrupted voice wafts to you while his back remains turned. You jog up to walk just behind him at his side. “It’s on the way to the Navigation Bay, which is where I need to be. I’ll retrieve you after I’m finished attending to a few things.”

“What do you want me to do, Master Ren?” you ask. He rarely lets you leave his private rooms; usually it’s just to transport you when he needs to be on the Destroyer for an extended amount of time, or the few occasions the Captain requested your presence in her own office to share lunch. Which was a little pointless, you thought, as the Captain never ate or even removed her helmet. She just watched you devour your food and asked questions, occasionally giving you small presents or tokens of advice on dealing with some people you might encounter.  
Kylo stops abruptly and you brush against his arm before skidding to a halt. You shuffle to stand behind him but he catches your wrist, holding you in place. 

“Phasma and I have a long history together in the Order, girl…if you were to mistreat me or pose any real threat, she would go beyond her job requirements to remedy the problem.”

Stomach dropping cold in your middle, you pale. 

“Remedy the problem?” you whisper. Kill you with a smile, he meant. 

His head doesn’t move. More than often you wish you could see his expression, see his mind working. Although there isn’t much differentiation through his mask, you swear his voice becomes a little lighter.

“Captain Phasma adores you, girl. She has mentioned many times, in all seriousness, that Hux outdid himself by finding you. Also her relief that you ended up in my care rather than…the so-called care of others.” He looks down the corridor, both ways, visually reinforcing that you two are alone. 

“I like being in your care, Master Ren,” you whisper, looking down. A blush creeps into your cheeks despite your innocent tone, and you recall the current bruised state of your knees after he had you down on them the vast duration of this morning.

“You should.” The hard edge to his words make you hold the questions on your tongue. He turns abruptly and continues walking. “I’m taking you to the kitchens so you can learn to cook. Technically you are my slave here, and that constitutes more than just lounging around with your legs open.”

“I already can cook, Ren!” you whine in protest, embarrassed and a little flustered at his insinuation. Kylo stops again, in front of a small door on the left wall. 

“Then you can learn to cook the things I prefer to eat, idiot girl. And it’s Master Ren,” he hisses, “everywhere outside of your fucking cage.” He waves his hand and the door slams open with a loud metallic clang. You glance around, but of course there’s nobody in the vicinity. “In,” he orders.

You try to walk but you’re scooted forward on your feet, toes catching on the concrete floor as Kylo grips your body with the Force to usher you inside. Your back slams against a solid wall and the light is blocked out with his broad silhouette when he follows you. The door shuts solidly behind him plunging the two of you into inky blackness; the dark is something you’re fairly accustomed to but the foreboding press of Kylo Ren’s heavily cloaked figure so close to you in the cramped space makes you instantly nervous. 

“What are you doing?!” you hiss, letting his gloved hands spin you around and grip tight at your hips, pushing you forward.

“Whatever I please,” comes the low retort. “Bend over, over the table.”

The sharp cut of a metal edge jabs high into your hipbones and his hand pushes flat between your shoulder blades, caressing the angles while he presses you flat. A soft rush of chilly air against your bare ass makes you gasp when Kylo wastes no time tugging up the hem of your robe to bunch at your waist. His thumb slips inside you, drawing out the slight wetness it finds while his fingers curve to rub your quickly flushing bud. Small sighs and moans slip muffled from your closed mouth, a perfect compliment to the deep, rhythmic pant of his covered breaths. The atmosphere of haste isn’t lost on you. Everything on Base happens on a strict schedule and he’ll be furious if you unnecessarily delay him, so you relax into the metal and try to tilt your hips. Concentrating on his thick digit invading your core you pointedly try to welcome the desire, willing your body to wetten for him.

It’s never very hard, even when he surprises you like this.

You hear the rustle of his cloak and vest being undone with his other hand in the dark, and your core twists in pleasure with the anticipation. It seems like the tiny room has jumped in temperature but maybe it’s just the heat you feel radiating from him behind you.

“You’re too low,” he says, obviously irritated, pushing your body farther up onto the table in an effort to angle you properly.

“Um, is there a stool? Or a bucket?” You try to keep your voice down. The thought of someone opening the door and finding you like this, even at the hands of Kylo Ren, makes your blood run cold with shame. 

“Forget it!” he growls in frustration, fisting your robes at your back to lift you slightly and push you farther still onto the table. The edge is digging in roughly at the bend of your thighs where they meet your groin, but you know better than to complain. “Stand on my feet, on your toes. Now!”

You’re quick to obey, searching for the tops of his boots with your bare soles. The leather meets your toes and you’re lifted a few more inches from the ground, hips tilted from the push of being up the balls of your feet. The thrilling position only accentuates how small and fragile you are beneath his towering form, and your heart beats wildly. Slick sounds meet your ears briefly when he palms himself, using what wetness you’ve provided as a sufficient amount of lubrication to enter you sharply in one thrust.

“Ren!” Tears prick your eyes and your breath catches. The burning force of his intrusions has you gasping, struggling to breathe under his crushing weight. He leans to grip your upper arms, pulling out quickly only to slam into you with just as much ferocity as before.

“Where are we? Are we in my room? No! So address me…” he slams into you again, pinning you against the table edge with his body, “properly.”

“No, Master Ren, we aren’t in you rooms,” you pant, desperately trying to relax around him in your strained position.

“Good girl,” he snarls. Cheek pressed hard against the cold metal, you bite your lips when he sets a vicious pace, pulling out as much as your two’s precarious forms allow. After a few minutes the fire in your groin begins to calm as you adjust to his ministrations. You try to steady your breathing in the darkness, taking in the familiar smell of his lustful body.  
Caring for sides, or a team, or having a certain moral standing, none of it has ever mattered to you before. The pull you felt since you were a child was nameless, faceless, and your actions always situational. All of that was different here; splayed out, being thoroughly handled by the untamed monster of the First Order, the only option is to let the Dark side infiltrate you. It’s a living, tangible thing when you’re with Kylo Ren. Every doubt of your belonging was snuffed out along with the light from the hallway. Even if this is the most delicate brush of the power he feels, it seeps in to stain every fiber of your existence and you are certain there is nothing you will ever want more.  
The metallic undertones of his masked growls fill the tiny room and echo loud in your ears, heightening the bruising press of his fingers around your arms. You wish you could burn under the hot kiss of his breath on your face, but even in the dark closet it seems he’s not going to remove his helmet.

“No,” he answers your thoughts, slowing his pace. “Supply closets don’t lock, idiot girl. Any person on this Base could walk in and see us. It stays on.” He moans softly, pulling back from your center excruciatingly slow so you feel each pressing inch of his ownership over you. 

“I like it on, too, Master Ren,” you assure him, voice low and tinged with lust. It’s not a lie. Being in the darkness, unable to move pinned between the clinical steel table and his unforgiving, menacing figure while he batters his way inside you, makes you submit every inch of yourself to him. Power rolls from him and grips you with fear; the awesome fear of being completely unable to resist his commands, his touch, or his sick desires. 

“Like it? It makes you ache when I taunt you, little slut. I could give you any order and you’d obey. Look at you spreading your legs for me in a closet where anyone could see you, ass in the air, pussy drenched because you know it's what I want...ready to be used by your master like the perfect slave you are. Would you like it if someone saw you like this? Saw you broken and begging under me?”

“No, Master Ren!” you quickly answer. Anything to make him fill you again. The slick grip of his glove wraps along your hipbone, stilling the small thrusts you didn’t realize you were making.

“But you’ll do anything I say, won’t you? So eager…” He returns to pounding harshly while you struggle to think through the wet slap of skin and stench of sex.

“Yes, Master Ren,” you whisper. Desperate fingers find the opposite edge of the table and you curl them around it for support, for any stability. He pins your body nearly immobile and you can’t help the thoughtless roll of your hips under his palm or the sweat that drips freely from your temple. 

“Tell me what you’ll do for me, little girl,” he commands, leaning over you and gently wiping your face clean. You sigh at the tender action but try to make a cuter face; you often wondered if his mask allowed him to see in the dark and the answer seems to have presented itself. “I want to hear it from your dirty mouth.”

“Um…” you falter, unsure of what he’s expecting to hear.

“I don’t want to hear anything!” he growls over you, thrusts becoming more erratic in his frustration. “I want you to tell me what you will do for me.” 

“I’ll…I’ll learn to cook the things you like, Master Ren.” The response is followed with immediate regret as it leaves your tongue. An abrasive static bark rings out from his mask, startling you; you’re pretty sure he just snorted a laugh at your words.  
One hand trails slowly down your back to rest lightly on your bare ass, rubbing gently. Without warning he slaps you hard, the leather surely leaving a large mark for him to ravish with his mouth later. You whimper at the sting.

“You can do better than that,” he coaxes, fingertips teasing your clit from under your hips. 

“I’ll take you anywhere you please, Master Ren!” Unrelenting strokes heighten the press of his girth breaking you open. You heartbeat pulses through your aroused flesh and you tighten hard around him, feeling so naked as the lewd words spill from you. “I’ll get on my knees in the middle of the great chamber, and choke on your cock until my spit pools on the steps of the Supreme Leaders throne, Master Ren…” even your ears burn you’re blushing so hard, but every word you say is true. “I’ll hold still when you tie me up in the empty trooper barracks and keep quiet while you beat me until I can’t sit, covered in your bruises…your fingerprints and bite marks make me so wet. Please keep touching me, Master Ren. I’ll cum under your hands, even when you drag me into a closet and threaten to let someone find us I’ll still cum so hard for you!” The breathless last sentence is almost pathetic in your ears, but you stare begging up at the impassive darkness through your shame.

Kylo Ren moans roughly under his mask and the audible vibrations drive you mad. His fingers stroke in time with his thrusts, expertly working to bring both of you closer.

“Say it again.”

“Please…please, Master Ren.” 

"Again." He slams hard enough into you that your toes slip from his boots, but you right yourself quickly after crying out.

"Master Ren!"

 

The surveillance office sits dark and empty save for one individual, all usual officers having quickly abandoned their posts at one man’s orders. Blue and grey light flickers from a tall stack of monitors adorning one wall, severely outlining the man’s silhouette while he observes. 

He has been watching for the better part of a quarter hour; rather, he has been fuming with steadily increasing rage for the better part of a quarter hour. The image he views remains mostly unchanging, showing only an empty hallway with an unremarkable door off to left. On screen, two troopers have passed through since the man ordered the office empty. Each stilled in their round only for a moment, only long enough to recognize the grating voice behind the door and immediately ignore that recognition, continuing on almost without breaking stride. The viewer’s pale, bony hand reaches out to turn a small knob next to the monitor. It’s quiet and a little distorted as the microphone is outside in the hallway, but unmistakable to the General. A woman’s voice, small, yet determined in its mission to obey her master’s command, repeating the ordered honorific over and over in a wicked assault on his ears.  
Hux clenches his fists. 

“Ren…” he growls behind clenched teeth, fury breaking through his carefully worn façade of control. “Always master fucking Ren…” 

He takes a deep breath, gathering himself, pulling his emotions back under his command. The insolent brat would need to be taught a lesson. He’d been given allowance to run amok throughout the Order, answering to no one, embarking on whichever selfish side quest he desired with no consequence. Leader of the Knights or not, Hux refused to be made weak by a pampered, overpowered, boy.  
Back on screen, a shadow spills through the false glow of the monitor when the hallway door opens. The slave; the weak, crying one he threw on the ground at Kylo Ren in mockery on that glorious bloodsoaked dust; stumbles out looking rather disheveled. She immediately stands to straighten the pompous white cloak he obviously forced her to wear. The parallels of his ridiculous ‘call to the light’ sicken the General. Kylo Ren himself struts from the closet, combative and unwavering as usual, shutting the door behind him with a wave of his hand while a bolt of hatred strikes through Hux.

Show off.  
The whore isn’t even limping, he thinks. Ren was never supposed to take an actual liking to the useless piece of human refuse, but then again, birds of a feather…

He couldn’t even treat a slave properly. Yet again, Hux sighs, something else he was forced to take into his own hands if he wanted done right. He was so tired of being surrounded by people unable to accomplish basic tasks. Cruelty wasn’t hard. Murder wasn’t hard. What it is about this one, he muses, slowly turning the volume knob back to its ‘off’ position; there wasn’t a single smear of blood on those thick white robes. He watched as the pair strode quickly towards their originally intended destination, staring at her downturned eyes as she passed from screen to screen. Through the changing angles the General saw the slight upturn of her lips, the glow on her cheeks. He would find out why the devious slut had wormed her way into the position of a pet, and he had a feeling he would enjoy reminding her of her…disposable existence.

One by one he turns back on the lights, smoothing his hair back curtly and straightening his back. Ideas, glorious and sticky ideas, danced through his mind while he glowered at the officers returning to their posts. The girl looked rather malnourished and he wasn’t sure how long she would last under his hand. Perhaps some precision tuning was in order before he made his move, and his mind was already in his chambers as he walked throughout the corridors. It rested on the naked, hopefully still alive boy in his bathtub; obviously there wasn’t enough blood in a single person for him to be drowned yet, but the carnage stained marble already held the contents of a few previous slaves. Would his missing limbs kill him before the drugs wore off?

Hux looked forward to finding out.


End file.
